


The Night You Can't Remember

by coffeespoons



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Bad Karaoke, Drinking, M/M, Murky Katlaska friendship, Post-All Stars, Recreational Drug Use, Tour Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:38:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10464054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeespoons/pseuds/coffeespoons
Summary: Brian, who always answered the door when Jason, drunk and giggling and full of dumb ideas, knocked.(1/3)





	

**Author's Note:**

> The following is set during a fictional BOTSish tour that takes place after All Stars 2 has wrapped filming. It also references an infamous Philly BOTS performance.

It was the eve of Violet Chachki’s birthday, and while the girls were out doing shots in honor of the young queen, Brian was alone in his hotel room.

He was startled from his attempt to catch up on the current season of _Game of Thrones_ by someone banging on his door and yelling, “STOP JACKING OFF AND LET ME IN.” He glanced at his watch, abandoned on the nightstand. It was 11:45pm.

He reluctantly paused the show and got up, drawing his robe around himself demurely. He peered into the peephole and saw a tall, swaying stringbean of a person outside. Brian unlocked the door and greeted Jason with a “hello and happy _birthday_ , darling.”

“Whatever, bitch,” Jason sauntered in, sweeping their phone around the room, looking for something. “You didn't come to my party.”

Brian blinked at the young queen, scratching the back of his head. “Right,” he said, reaching over to snatch the phone away from Jason and toss it over onto the bed. Jason glared at him.

“Look,” they began, “I know we’re friends and all, but you can't disrespect your Queen like that, Katya. It's just not done.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot up, curious about this development. “Are you going to punish me, mother?”

Jason nodded solemnly and pulled a bottle out of their coat.

“Since you chose not to come out with us,” they said, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swallow of birthday cake vodka, “you are gonna watch me drink this whole thing. This whole thing, Katya. And then--”

“--and then you want to shove the empty bottle up my ass, and/or pee on me,” Brian finished for them. Jason stopped mid-sentence and glared at him, their expression faltering as they fought a laugh.

“Stop! You are not gonna hijack my decree,” They took another swig and steadied themself on the countertop. “Not again, you fucking bitch.”

“Oh, please,” Brian shuffled over to Jason, shepherding them off the counter top, “please get your dirty ass off my counter. Come,” he lead the drunken queen over to the bed to sit next to him. Jason took another long swig off the handle. “Let’s talk like ladies.”

“Why didn’t you come to my thing,” Jason pouted.

Brian looked at them, a little taken aback by the genuine hurt in the young queen’s voice. He gently took the bottle from Jason’s hands and set it on the nightstand. He had figured he would be occupying a fairly high place on the kid's shit list for skipping the party, but he just… didn’t think the club would be a good scene for him, tonight. There had been too many close calls on this tour already.

And Jason was the one who had called him out! _I know you're not doing what I think you're doing, Yekaterina. Not after all that sober sister bullshit._

Brian shrugged and said as much.

“Oh,” Jason said, blinking. “Right. Wow...” They looked Brian in the eyes and said, “Sorry I’m such a good fucking friend?”

Brian yelled, grasping the young queen’s shoulder before sinking his teeth into it. “Ow,” Jason giggled, as Brian relaxed back onto his side of the bed, sighing.

“I mean,” Brian reached over and swatted at Jason, too lazy for a pat. “I’m flattered you missed me so much.” Jason rolled their eyes.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting yourself in trouble,” they muttered, lying back on the bed and gazing up at the ceiling.

“That… doesn’t sound like you,” Brian said, laying down beside them.

“You’re right,” Jason admitted, turning to look at him. “I thought you skipped because you were screwing the shit out of some idiot, and I wanted to fuck up your night.”

Brian stared into Jason’s glassy eyes for a moment before dissolving into manic laughter, reaching over to shake the giggling brat before squeezing them in a hug.

He had wanted to be there. He had wanted to be there. He just... couldn’t be there.

“I was going to send you a really nice text,” Brian mumbled into Jason’s neck. “I was! Right at midnight.”

“Yeah? Read it to me.”

Brian cleared his throat.

“I don’t have my phone,” he said, “but it was something like…” Brian thought for a moment. “‘ _Dear Violet_ ,” he began, “ _Wow! Twenty-four! That's crazy. When I was twenty-four,_ ” he paused and then continued: “ _I was...severely underweight...and I got dragged to my first NA meeting. Narcotics… Anonymous. Yes. The first one I remember, at least..._ ” Jason shifted against him and sighed. “‘ _...and I still wasn't sure what to do with my eyebrows. So on that account, you're doing pretty damn well.’_ And then I was gonna put, ‘ _luv_ ’ - L-U-V, so don’t get any ideas, hooker - ‘ _Katya/Brian,_ ’ with some emojis and stuff.”

“Aw,” Jason said, snuggling into their embrace.

Brian’s watch started going off on the nightstand. Midnight. They separated and looked at each other.

“Happy birthday, you cock-blocking cunt.”

They gazed at each other for a moment longer until Jason finally smiled and groaned, leaning over to drape twenty-four years of dead weight over a flattened Brian, who wheezed and slapped Jason’s ass as the young queen giggled. Somewhere on the bed, the lost phone started buzzing. Brian ceased his spanking.

“Oh,” Jason muttered. “Shit. I told… Damn it, Katya.” Jason shoved themself up off the older queen, who watched them, curiously. “I came up here to fuck your night up for fucking my night up, and now you’re fucking my fucking night up again…”

Brian bared his teeth awkwardly. “I just work here.”

Jason rolled their eyes, leaning over the bed. They glanced at their phone before putting it away. Jason ran a hand over their face, muttering, “You better fuckin...work, bitch.”

Brian wheezed like a deflating balloon when he finally got up, slapping Jason’s back as he hopped off the bed. He briefly considered asking if Jason wanted to just stay the night - you know, so they didn't have to stumble all the way back to their room, or whatever - but that small voice Brian usually had smothered these days told him that it would probably be one of those bad decisions he loved to make.

Brian shook that particular train of thought away and offered a hand up to the young queen. Jason opened one eye and stared up at him before letting Brian pull them up onto their wobbly feet.

“If it makes you feel any better, girl,” Brian began, pushing Jason toward the door with a steadying hand on their lower back, “you kinda did fuck up my night. I was so close to finishing...” He removed his hand as they reached the doorway, allowing the giggling Jason to face him. “So git,” he continued. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Jason hummed and leaned in, resting their forehead against Brian’s.

“Katya? It's my birthday,” they slurred. Brian snorted, crossing his eyes to look into Jason’s.

“It is,” he agreed, encircling his arms around Jason’s waist. He held the young queen still as the shrill voice in his head screamed _MCCOOK, THINK LONG AND HARD ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE DOING._

He was about to tell the voice to go fuck itself when he heard Jason’s reclaimed phone begin to spasm in their pocket again. “...and I think someone is waiting for you.”

“I don't care,” Jason muttered.

“Yes you do,” Brian ignored the excited jolt in his gut and directed his gaze to the floor, concentrating on the pressure of Jason’s head on his own. “You're just drunk.”

And now Jason’s hand was moving up his arm.

“M’sorry,” they whispered. Brian let his eyes flutter shut as Jason’s hand found its way to the back of his neck, where it finally rested. “I shouldn't’ve come up here.” Jason pressed a dry kiss to Brian’s cheek.

Brian shook his head as Jason pulled away. He wanted to pull them back into the room. He wanted to.

But he just... couldn't.

Jason watched him for a moment. When Brian finally met their eyes, they pursed their lips and nodded, turning to go.

“Violet,” Brian called. “Don't do anything I would do.”

Jason laughed. “You're not giving me any options, bitch.”

Brian watched the kid disappear down the hall. He knew he'd done the right thing, but, man; his erection was actually painful.

“They grow up so fast…”

Brian jumped, pulling his robe tight around himself as he turned to face Alaska Thunderfuck Five- _fucking_ -Thousand. He was staying in the room across the hall and must have slunk up behind Brian when he was distracted. The other queen smirked.

 _Shit fuck motherfucker cunt_ shit.

“That was cute,” he drawled.

“You guys are back early,” Brian replied, maybe a little too quickly.

Alaska shrugged. “Don't really see the point in staying out when the guest of honor has already crawled back to her hotel room… Or so we thought. And besides,” and now Alaska was grinning, “we have such a _long_ day tomorrow.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Not that it's any of your business,” he began, shifting uncomfortably, “but I'll have you know, she just dropped by to give me an earful for my disrespectful absence.”

Alaska smiled. Brian despised that smile. “An earful, you say…”

“You know how she gets,” Brian sniffed, ignoring the comment.

Alaska stared at Brian hard. “Apparently not,” he drawled, lips twitching.

“Please leave me alone,” Brain groaned, heading back into his room.

\----

 

In Paris, they did karaoke.

Everyone had been too fried from the night to so much as grunt at each other across the dressing room before the show. Powered by caffeine and the energy of the Parisian audience, they headed out to a karaoke joint in the city and caught up as they took turns singing whatever song the previous person picked out for them. Brian chatted with a somewhat smarmy Alaska while Jinx Monsoon sang _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ behind them.

“You're crazy,” Alaska drawled, sipping his wine through a straw. “But you know that already.”

“You have to be more specific.”

Alaska smirked and Brian felt a sudden weight on his shoulders as Jason draped themself over him from behind.

“Hello,” Brian said, grasping the boneless arms hanging around his shoulders.

“Just thought I’d come crash your little mom kiki,” Jason said, resting their head on top of Brian’s. Alaska sipped his pinot.

“Brian was just teaching me some… useful French phrases,” he said.

Jason pulled a face and looked down at the blond head under his chin. “You speak fucking French?”

Brian nodded, staring at Alaska, who only smiled back.

“Go on, Katy,” he said. “Tell the birthday girl what you were telling me.”

Jinkx finished up and called for Alaska to take her turn. Jason disentangled themself from Brian’s shoulders and slipped into Alaska’s abandoned seat.

“Well?”

“I was teaching Alaska how to pick up French trade.”

Jason rolled their eyes, like, obviously. “Do tell.”

“Well…” Brian took a thoughtful sip of his water. “It’s always best to get to the point. Repeat after me: _Je te veux_.” Jason spat out the words. Not bad. “Good. That means, you know, ‘I want you.’ Now: _Je veux t'embrasser._ ” Jason repeated it. “Alright, cool. How about something a little more advanced: _Je veux sucer pisse de votre grosse bite_.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. They laughed, trying to wrap their mouth around the words. A couple Frenchmen a few tables away turned to stare over at them, chuckling. Noticing the attention, Jason smirked, and whispered to Brian, “What kind of sick shit are you making me say?”

Brian just smiled a very Alaskan smile. Jason rolled their eyes, shoving him. “How’s your birthday been?” Brian asked as the first notes of _What's New, Pussycat?_  filled the room. Jason shrugged.

“Well. I fell asleep with my dick in someone’s mouth, so.” Brian cackled and turned to watch Alaska sing. Jason continued: “I can't believe how fucked up I got, man. I remember deciding to leave the club, telling everyone I was leaving the club, leaving the club, and that's...it.”

“You were pretty out of it,” Brian nodded. Jason’s brow furrowed.

“You didn't come out with us…” they said.

Brian looked back at Jason for a moment before he realized that the young queen did not remember coming up to his room. Behind them, Alaska sang:

_“...and soon I’ll be kissing your sweet little pussycat lips…”_

“No,” Brian confirmed. “Which is why you came to my room and yelled at me.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god…”

“It was fine,” Brian said quickly, sipping his water. “We had a nice little chat.”

Jason squinted at him for a moment, but seemed to think better of pursuing the subject any further and turned their attention to the stage to clap and whoop for Alaska, who curtsied and beckoned Brian up to take his turn. Brian winked at Jason as he headed up.

Alaska handed the mic to Brian and pulled him in close. “Don’t hate me,” he whispered, grinning. Brian looked at the screen.

He glared at Alaska’s retreating from as the spindly queen made his way back to the chair next to Jason. Brian cleared his throat as the drum machine kicked in.

_“Children behave, that's what they say when we’re together…”_

\----

 

After Brian took his bow and Jason approached the stage, the French eavesdroppers sent over a bottle of wine. Brian nodded to them and handed it over to Alaska, who purred, “are you trying to get me drunk, Miss Zamo-low-chee-kovah…?”

On stage, Jason did their best, singing: _“I love myself/I want you to love me…”_

Brian rolled his eyes and indicated the French couple a few tables away. “No, but the pissplay brothers over there…” At Alaska’s look, Brian explained, “they overheard Violet saying she wanted to drink my pee and they’ve been all boned up ever since. My sexy singing didn’t help much, I imagine.”

“Well this is certainly… interesting,” Alaska said, pouring himself a fresh glass. “Too bad I’m spoken for. They seem like my kinda girls…”

Brian gaze shifted from the handsome French couple to Jason, who seemed to be looking at him as they sang, _“I’d get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you -”_

“You weren’t saying that in Dublin,” Brian said. Alaska shot him a look and shrugged.

“That was in Dublin,” he said, closing the subject. Brian nodded. None of his business, really.

\----

 

The songs ended, the glasses were licked clean and everybody headed back to the hotel for the night, except for Brian, who hung around to smoke a bit and chat with some stray fans. It didn't take long for one half of the couple from inside to crop up in the throng, his dark eyes burning a hole into Brian’s skull.

They shook hands and the stranger said, _“Tu bois pipi, mais pas de vin?”_

Brian cackled and shook his head, _“Non, non.”_

The Frenchman nodded and pulled a fat cigarette out of his jacket pocket, offering it to Brian. Brian accepted the joint with a wide-eyed nod.

_“Où est ton ami?”_

_“Où est le tien?”_ Brian shot back, digging out his lighter. The stranger smiled.

“He is waiting for us,” he said.

Brian locked eyes with him, drinking in his thick eyelashes; the dimple cutting into his youthful features…

Well, he thought, lighting the joint, it would be impolite to accept his weed without a proper thank you.

Brian was a lot of things, but he wasn't rude. He'd been raised better than that.

\----

 

“Trust me,” Alaska said one night in...somewhere. Brian was having a hard time remembering where they were. But he knew this: they were hanging out in his room after a gig, having recused themselves from the afterparty, and Alaska was playing with a feather boa and saying:

“I know right now it's all shits and giggles between you two, and your dick is all like, _it's cool, it’s free love, how bad could it beeee_...?”

“First of all, bitch,” Brian began, “If my dick were in a musical, it would not be _Hair_.” He thought for a moment. “It would be _Next to Normal_.”

“Oooh. Do mine.”

Brian squinted at Alaska, thinking. _“Les Miserables._ Long and… tragic.”

They both cackled. Alaska placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder, or rather tried to before he flinched away. He ran his long fingers through his messy curls and leaned back onto the bed.

“She's fucking one of the dancers. I saw her take him back to her room in Seattle.”

Brian rolled his eyes. As if he didn't already know that. As if Violet hadn't knocked his door down to tell him all about it. As _if_ he was even seriously considering seducing - or letting himself be seduced by - Violet fucking Chachki, or Jason, or whoever the fuck it was showing up at his door or his bus bunk every other night.

Brian was glad that they were finally friends after everything, but Alaska was such a fucking... meddler.

“As someone who’s been there, I just don't want to see you get all...,” Alaska made a series of spastic movements with his hands and shrugged. “...until we finish this fuckin’ tour, at least.”

“You should stop worrying,” Brian replied, “as I am not a clown fucker like you.”

Alaska stared at Brian, his face unreadable.

“Party,” he said. Brian groaned.

“Oh, come on...”

“Just so we’re clear,” Justin began, Alaska’s trademarked vocal fry suddenly clearing up ever so slightly, “I meant physically. I don't care if Violet Chachki emotionally cripples you. I just need you to be able to dance.”

“I was just kidding,” Brian said quietly, ears reddening. “You know better than most that I fuck a lot of clowns.”

Brian tried not to squirm while Justin studied him.

“Here's the deal, girl,” Justin began, “I like you. A lot. And now that I've gotten to know her, I like the kid, too. And I know what I saw.” He held a hand up to silence Brian. “I know what I saw, girl. And I am trying to help you avoid blowing up this whole tour with drama we won't be able to use once it's all over with.

“So wake up, Brian.”

\----

 

In Atlanta, Brian woke up from that same damn dream under gangly limbs and groggily tried to remember who was snoring into the back of his head.

He carefully removed the arm and leg from his person and gently rolled away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his face. He glanced at the snoring queen.

 _You fuckin’ asshole,_ Brenda growled in his ear, as Brian watched the slow rise and fall of Jason’s chest.

Memories of the night before began to drip back into his brain, and relief flooded into the nerves of his limbs as he realized:

Nothing happened.

_Nothing._

Jason came by like they always did, drunk and looking for attention. And Brian… Brian was too tired to send them on their way, last night. So when Jason Dardo curled up next to him chattering about the weird looks Naldo and Alaska kept shooting them after the show, Brian let himself be consumed by the warmth of another body and dozed off...

...which is why he was now in the awkward position of tip-toeing around the queer wunderkind drooling in his bed so he could sneak into the bathroom and jerk off before they woke up and got the wrong idea.

Brian climbed back into bed a little while later, jostling Jason awake just enough for them to drape a long arm over his chest and mumble something about days off.

And they stayed like that as Brian tried to will himself back to sleep.

_But isn't this so much worse?_

\----

 

“I woke up being spooned by Violet. Please don't look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you. I’m talking to you on a phone.”

“Spare me. I know what your face looks like and I do not need that right now! What am I supposed to do, Alaska? Not answer the door?”

“Yes, girl.”

“I don't think I did answer the door, actually. Stop!”

“I’m not...”

“Listen. Look, Lasky. Listen. I think...I think. Violet may have broken into my room? Stop, seriously! I'm not kidding! You know she's a perfectly capable and accomplished criminal!”

“Violet Chachki... broke into your room... to spoon you and tell you about her day.”

"Uh huh," Brian said. Alaska pinched the bridge of his nose and hung up.

\----

 

Well, Brian rolled his ankle getting off the fucking plane in Philly.

He was upset and anxious and didn't want to leave bed. His _last_ stop. His _last fucking stop_ and he was going to fuck it all up.

He didn't turn on the TV, he ignored his phone, he mostly just laid there, awake and miserable as the hours melted away.

And then his door opened and Jason - or rather Jason somewhere halfway to Violet - sauntered in, gear in hand. They stared at Brian’s unwashed form bundled up on the bed.

“I knew it,” Brian mumbled.

“What? You gave me your extra key,” Jason said. “Actually, I think I just took it last time I was in here. Um. Are you...not getting ready, or…?”

Brian blinked. “Oh, right,” he said. “Drag.”

Jason nodded slowly and said, “why am I getting Hello Kitty vibes from you?”

“I'm just not feeling well,” Brian muttered, burrowing deeper into the bed.

“Alright, well,” She tossed him a wipe. “Stop that and clean your face.” She disappeared into the bathroom, saying, “the fans’ll flip the fuck out if they don't see you slam your pussy into the pavement in a couple hours… probably burn the fucking theater down or some shit…”

Brian groaned, sat up, and swiped the cloth over his face. It actually felt nice. He tossed the wipe at the wastebasket, missing completely.

 

It was Violet Chachki who joined him on the bed. She reached out to grasp his jaw in her hand, pulling him closer. Brian blinked at her.

“You need a shave, bitch.”

“Mother, I don’t think the fans will mind a little stubble,” Brian mumbled.

“I will. I will mind,” Violet said, holding his gaze. “Give me a second.”

Brian watched as she retreated back to the bathroom only to return with shaving cream and a razor. He stared at her as she softly applied the shaving cream to his face, humming some tune he couldn’t quite place, and with a stern, "Sit still," began to carefully drag the blades across this cheeks and his jaw with the nimble movements of a painter. After a few minutes of this, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped his face clean, tongue clicking as she admired her handiwork.

“Like baby,” she clucked in her best attempt at what Brian imagined was supposed to be a Russian accent. “Do you feel better?”

“A little,” Brian said. "Can you do my balls next?"

Violet laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She rubbed the mark off with her thumb. “Oooh, wait--”

She grabbed a tube of lipstick out of her bag and held it up to his face.

“I’ve been dying to see this color on you,” she murmured, popping the cap. Brian kept his breathing even and watched her eyes as she expertly applied the lipstick to his mouth. She held her grip as she set the lipstick down, twisting his face so she could see it from all angles.

“Beautiful,” she said, finally releasing his chin and hopping up to sit at Brian’s side as they looked at their shared reflection in the mirrored doors of his closet. They were both naked but for their briefs and - in Violet’s case, at least - beaten faces.

“Two women,” Brian said. In the mirror, Violet laughed, reaching out to smooth down his hair. He smiled, looking at Violet’s reflection. “It’s pretty,” he said, “but I bet it looks prettier on you.”

Violet snorted.

“Everything does,” she said.

In the mirror, she watched as Brian turned to look at the real her. She met his gaze and Brian reached out to cradle the back of her neck as he pressed his painted lips to hers.

It wasn’t a kiss, really; more of a stamping. Violet’s fingers - thank god she hadn’t put her nails on, yet - dug into Brian’s leg as she realized he wasn’t trying to deepen the kiss, but rather pressing harder before finally pulling away and grinning.

“Oh,” Brian said. “These two colors together aren’t… great.”

Violet was quiet for a moment, not looking at him. Brian coughed and licked his lips, quietly terrified by how rage froze her in time, like a mosquito in amber.

"I'm going to get up," Violet said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I am going to get up, and I am going to fix my makeup. And then you are going to finish getting ready. And then you are going to make up for that by kissing my ass on stage tonight.”

\----

Brian was at the airport. He was finally heading home, his leg of the tour complete, when he received a text from Jason wishing him a safe trip home and apologizing for not getting a chance to say bye after the show.

Brian ignored it. Before he could be proud of himself, Jason sent a follow-up:

_V: I missed a spot when I cleaned up. Didn't realize til someone asked why I had streaks of lipstick around my asshole._

Brian smiled to himself. Philly had been one hell of a motherfuckin’ last show, that's for sure.  

_K: What did you say???_

_V: I said: that's not lipstick._

Brian laughed, drawing stares.

_V: Bitch, I’m gonna remember that performance til the day I die_

_K: I won’t be able to cum without thinking about it for at least the next six months. At LEAST._

_V: lol_

_V: you're stupid_

_V: I’m not gonna lie tho..I think my trade was a little annoyed when I asked him to make his grunting more ‘oink-y’_

 

 

Brian gnawed at his lip and twirled the cigarette in his hand as he stared at the message. He dropped the phone in his pocket and lit the cigarette he'd been toying with. He took a long drag and gazed out onto the street.

A jet flew out overhead and he watched it climb up into the atmosphere until it finally winked out of existence. No clouds tonight; just planes ascending into nothing as the stars finally started to become visible in the purple-blue sky.

 

It was a beautiful fucking night.

 

******

**Author's Note:**

> Cue the music: https://youtu.be/uLhncL9Od14
> 
> This lil tril (little trilogy) is almost entirely Stephin Merritt's fault. Something like 90%? I don't know. I'm really bad at math but that feels about right.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING. I love you.


End file.
